


Five Times Steve Came Out by Accident, and One Time He Came Out on Purpose

by suspendedinice



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5 Times, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Bisexual Tony Stark, Coming Out, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, The Avengers Are Good Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26072680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suspendedinice/pseuds/suspendedinice
Summary: Steve really needs to break the habit of blurting out the first thing that comes into his head.“Right.” Steve replies with a frown, giving up on his newspaper for now, folding it up neatly, “I suppose I’m bisexual then.”Did he say that out loud?Judging by the way Tony’s mouth is hanging open, he’s pretty sure he did.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team
Comments: 37
Kudos: 711





	Five Times Steve Came Out by Accident, and One Time He Came Out on Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick note that there are minor CWs in the end notes in case anyone wants to check those before reading. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The first time it happens, Steve pins it on grief.

He’s melting into Peggy’s arms, his sobs muffled by the material of her blouse, and he feels smaller than he has in a long time. She’s tracing her fingers up and down his back, making soft shushing sounds, and he’s inebriated by her perfume in a way that he can no longer be by alcohol.

“It’s alright, darling.” She soothes, gently taking hold of his shoulder and pushing him back so that instead of having his head nestled into her neck, he’s face to face with her.

He blinks, then she’s leaning closer again, her lips pressing against his tentatively; she’s testing the waters. And he shouldn’t, but he lingers there for a second and lets her, because he’s devastated and she’s beautiful and he doesn’t want to feel like there’s nothing good left in the world.

“Peggy,” He whispers after he pulls back, “Peggy, I can’t-”

“No, I thought so.” She nods apologetically, reaching her finger to his lips and wiping away a smear of velvety red, “I had suspected that perhaps there might be someone else. I hope she can be of more comfort to you than I can.”

Her gaze is focused on his face so intensely, and though he hadn't thought it possible, his heart breaks a little more to recognise the same longing in her eyes that he’s seen reflected in Bucky’s so many times.

The thing is, he never meant to hurt her like this; in another universe, he thinks, perhaps she is the greatest love of his life. She should be, but in any version of the cosmos including James Buchanan Barnes, Steve will always belong to him.

He doesn’t want Peggy to believe she means nothing to him. In all this unfairness, he can’t help but think that she doesn’t deserve to be under any illusions.

So he shakes his head.

“There is no other woman, Pegs.” He breathes, “It was only ever him.”

He should be mortified. Truly, he hadn’t intended to allow the confession to slip out, but there was no other way to maintain his integrity with her.

Peggy Carter is much brighter than him. It takes her mere seconds to process what he’s said, in a pause that should seem momentous but has lost all meaning in light of current events.

Steve isn’t sure what response he wants, or if he even wants her to respond at all, but then she’s watching him with a renewed sense of sorrow and wrapping her arms around his shoulders again, and somehow he’s managing to cry even harder than before.

“Oh, Steve,” She consoles, “I had no idea, I can’t even imagine…”

She doesn’t have to, because the man who was supposed to be the love of her life crashes a plane into the Arctic soon afterwards.

She spends the majority of the rest of her life wondering if it was an act of martyrdom or suicide.

-

The second time is down to changes in convention, really.

He’s sitting up at the breakfast bar, reading the newspaper whilst Tony sets up the coffee machine to make a triple shot espresso.

“Little late for that, don’t you think?” Steve remarks.

“Not when you’re getting ready to take hundreds of calls about evading a potential PR scandal.” He’s pouring the viscous black liquid into a mug, and he chugs it down as soon as he’s finished speaking.

“What is it this time?” Steve drawls, flicking disinterestedly past the gossip pages.

Tony puts his empty mug down, “This guy I used to date is threatening to drop a series of rather, uh, delicate images if I don’t pay up a significant amount of money for them.”

Steve cocks his head slightly; he wonders if he’s about to sound like an idiot asking, since ‘guys’ can definitely refer to a group of women these days, but he’s uncertain if it can be gender neutral in the singular form.

“A guy?”

“… Yes?”

“You mean, a guy as in-”

“A man, yeah.”

“Oh.” Steve says. Then he squints, because sure, he’s heard a handful of people introduce their significant others of the same sex fairly casually this side of the millennium, but- “You’re with Pepper though?”

Tony sighs with the exasperation of a man who has heard this same sentiment a million times, and tells him, “Yes, I’m with Pepper now, but I’m into guys too. That’s not to say I don’t feel fulfilled in my relationship with her; it just means that in the periods of my life during which I’ve been single, I could’ve fallen for a man just as easily as a woman.”

He’s looking at Steve like one might look at preschooler, using the same tone of voice as he probably would to explain the basics of shapes and colours.

“Okay.” Steve says.

“… Okay? That’s it?”

He thinks for a moment.

“Is there a word for that?”

“Wh- uh, yeah. Bisexuality.”

“Does it require equal attraction to men and women?”

“No.” Tony hums, “I’d say I’m pretty close to fifty fifty, but for some people it can be seventy thirty, or even a ninety ten split. Still bisexual.”

“Right.” Steve replies with a frown, giving up on his newspaper for now, folding it up neatly, “I suppose I’m bisexual then.”

Did he say that out loud?

Judging by the way Tony’s mouth is hanging open, he’s pretty sure he did.

“That’s a hell of a thing to tell me when I’m about to be busy all evening.” Tony finally settles on, after a few seconds of searching for words. On cue, his phone starts to buzz, and he rolls his eyes but picks it up regardless. “What’s he- how much? Yeah, not a fucking chance, I’d much rather let everyone see my- no, I know, I know…”

Steve turns his head away and tries his best not to listen in, but before Tony leaves the room he taps Steve’s shoulder and mouths ‘We’re talking about this later’.

Steve finds, oddly enough, that he doesn’t mind.

-

The third time happens entirely by accident.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t appreciate Natasha’s efforts to find him someone, really-

Well, actually, maybe it is exactly that, but he doesn’t want to seem impolite.

“So Emma from accounts broke up with her boyfriend a couple of months ago now, and she’s ready to start dating again.”

“Is that so.” He murmurs, deflecting an uppercut with his left elbow.

She grimaces and goes in for a right hook, which he attempts to parry but narrowly misses, taking a hit to the jaw.

“Sloppy.” She tuts, stepping backwards, which he mirrors. “When should I tell Emma you’re free?”

“Drop it.” He retorts, reaching to feel the bruise already forming on his chin, “You know I’m not looking to start a relationship.”

“Who said anything about a relationship?” Her fighting stance has dropped now, wordlessly ending the practice.

“Fine- relationship, hook-up, whatever you want to call it; it’s not for me.”

She eyes him suspiciously, then bends to grab her gym towel, slinging it around her neck and nodding for him to follow her to the bench.

He takes a seat beside her.

“I don’t understand why you won’t let me help you.” She starts.

“I don’t need your help, Natasha.” He sighs, “If I wanted to pursue someone, I would, but I’m really not interested.”

She keeps staring at him, drilling holes into the side of his head.

“Steve?”

“Yes?”

“Are you actually interested in women?”

“What?”

“It’s just, if you’d prefer for me to choose a man-”

“I’d prefer for you not to choose anyone-”

“then there are plenty of eligible bachelors in my contacts. I don’t want to waste my time asking more girls if you’re gay, which is fine by the way-”

“I know it’s fine, but-”

“it just wouldn’t make sense for me to keep barking up the wrong tree if you-”

“Natasha.”

She stops talking.

“I’m not gay, that’s not what it is. I mean, I’m bisexual but that’s irrelevant- my point is that I don’t want you scouting out anyone for me, regardless of gender, because I’m not ready.”

It’s very quiet.

Steve brings a hand to his mouth with a level of speed only blind panic can provoke.

“Okay.” Natasha says, like he hasn’t just spilled what is supposed to be his best kept secret, “No more dates. For now.”

He opens his mouth again, but she cuts him off.

“ _For now.”_

Well, that promise is better than nothing.

-

By the fourth time, Steve realises this is getting a little ridiculous, but in his defence he hasn’t been drunk since the forties.

“You guys, you’re so pretty, everyone is so pretty…” He drawls, practically draping himself over Thor’s shoulder.

They’re all sitting together on the floor, glowing in post-party bliss. Steve is warm and a little dizzy, and he’s pretty sure he can’t feel his legs, but it isn’t unpleasant at all.

“You good, Cap?” Sam asks, voice somewhere between amusement and concern.

“I’m _great._ Everything is so great, you know? I’m just…” He leans further towards Thor, and gets a little distracted from his train of thought because, “Oh _wow,_ you smell incredible. That’s-” Okay, yes, he’s sniffing the God of Thunder’s chest, “What is that? Something Asgardian?”

Thor lets out one of those hearty laughs of his and slaps Steve’s back in a way that he suspects would send most humans flying across the room.

“Ah, noble Captain, you are most amusing.”

Steve giggles a bit like an infatuated teenager and buries his head in his hands, only to underestimate his centre of gravity and swing forwards, hitting his head on the ground.

There’s a chorus of general disquiet, then Steve feels a pair of hands firmly lifting him to stand and then hauling his right arm up so it’s over his helper's shoulders.

“Alright, I’m pretty sure that’s you finished for the night.” It’s Sam’s voice again, and then Steve feels someone else join him on the left so he’s equally supported on both sides.

“Good call, Wilson.” It’s Tony, “Come on, big guy, you smell like a brewery.”

“An Asgardian brewery.” Steve says, then he’s laughing hysterically because, “I used to think I couldn’t get drunk, but I can and it’s because a man from space who can control thunder brought me the best beer I’ve ever had. Isn’t that crazy? And he’s so kind and tall and-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam interjects warmly, “We all know about your man crush.”

“Is it a man crush?” Steve’s vaguely aware that he’s in dangerous territory, somewhere in the back of his mind, but something at the front of it tells him it doesn’t actually matter, “I thought that man crushes were for people who don’t have actual crushes on men, but- ow-”

Tony’s pinching his shoulder for some reason, so he shoots a disgruntled look his way, and then- he’s forgotten what he was supposed to be talking about…

Oh, right.

“No, no, listen… It’s more of just a crush, right? I mean, I don’t want a relationship with the guy or anything, but am I attracted to him? Definitely, and that’s okay, even though- even though-”

Tony’s pinching him again and it’s even more annoying this time. Sam's looking at him weirdly, too, like he's in shock, and Steve doesn't like that at all. The bubbly feeling is wearing off as they help him to the elevator, and suddenly there’s this overwhelming sense of sadness growing in his gut.

He can’t stop word vomiting.

“even though it doesn’t matter how attractive anyone else is because I just want-” Is he crying? He thinks he might be crying, “I want Bucky so badly it _hurts._ I didn’t think you could miss someone so much that it makes your joints ache and your chest hollow and that everything else stops meaning shit because you always just think- you think what if he were here? And you think, how can I be happy when he’s out there somewhere, alone and terrified and- and- and even then you’re selfish as hell because you hope to God he’s missing you too.”

The elevator is deadly silent. Steve’s got his eyes screwed tight shut, and he can taste his tears now as they run past his mouth, hot and salty. His whole face stings and there’s a huge hole consuming him from the sternum outwards.

Then Sam is pulling him into an embrace, trying to sooth him and telling him that he had no idea, just like Peggy did after Bucky was gone the first time, and she may as well be gone too now for all she remembers-

“Why did he save me?” Steve whispers, trembling violently, “Why would he- I let him suffer for so long, and he still wouldn’t leave me to die. I don’t- I don’t deserve-”

There’s some shushing, and then he’s being taken to his quarters. Then there’s some fairly aggressive throwing up down the kitchen sink while Sam rubs his back and Tony passes him glass after glass of water, which he can’t seem to keep down, and he’s sweating so much but he’s so cold that he’s shivering and-

The following morning, he awakens with a splitting headache and a raw throat, and he doesn’t know how lucky he is to have forgotten most of the events of the night prior.

-

The fifth time is a happier accident.

“Here, use the cerulean for the sea, just like- hey, dilute it first, remember?”

Helping Spider-Man with his art homework is becoming a fairly regular occurrence, and in all honesty Steve needs it as much as the kid does, if not more.

“Like this?”

“That’s it, kid. You’re getting there, just let it dry for a while now. No point in rushing a watercolour.”

Peter dunks his paintbrush into the pot of water, watching plumes of colour explode from the end of it, permeating through the clarity to turn the liquid a translucent blue. He then takes his phone from his back pocket and unlocks it as he steps away from the easel, smiling in that telling way teenagers do when they’re talking to someone they like.

“Who’s the girl?” Steve asks, a playful note in his voice. Peter’s never mentioned anyone special before.

“Not a girl.” Peter responds, a faint blush flooding his cheeks as he crosses the room to sit on an armchair near to where Steve is sitting on the sofa.

“I know that look.” Steve teases, “Come on, indulge me.”

“Look it really isn’t a girl, it’s- I get what you’re trying to say, and you’re right, but it’s not. A girl.”

“Okay, a boy then.” Steve smiles, internally cursing himself for automatically assuming otherwise, “Who is he?”

Peter looks up from his phone, face twisting into an odd expression.

“You actually want to hear about it?”

“Why not?”

Peter’s countenance grows more puzzled still, “People don’t usually- they pretend to be chilled about it, the whole bi thing, but then they don’t actually want to hear about any romance stuff if it’s a guy, you know?”

Steve thinks about how people used to joke about his relationship with Peggy, excitement seeping through their words as well as desperation to know all about it. Then he thinks about how not one person has asked him about Bucky, not then and not now; sure, his situation is a little more complex than Peter’s, but he gets it.

“I want to hear about it.” He insists.

Peter pales, “I’m not even sure how to- sorry, I don’t usually talk about boys, and you’re Captain America…”

“Hey, me neither.” He says before he realises what he’s implying.

Then Peter’s staring at him like he’s got two heads, and he realises he can’t backtrack.

He grits his teeth, straightens his back and adds, “How about you tell me about this guy, and I’ll tell you about mine?”

Peter blinks rapidly.

“You mean-”

“Yeah. He’s still in recovery at the moment, but I should get used to introducing him as my best guy now that we can finally be open about it.”

It’s like Christmas day. Peter can’t stop grinning after that, nor does he stop babbling about the other kid he wants to be his boyfriend. It’s sweet, Steve thinks, and it also feels pretty important.

-

“You sure about this?”

“Quit worrying about me, Rogers. You know I’d have been bragging about you in the thirties if I could’ve.”

Steve’s blushing scarlet, because apparently Bucky still has that effect on him after all these years. He takes Bucky’s right hand in his left, the flesh familiar as his own, and together they step out onto the stage.

The crowd is roaring, the paparazzi immediately rising and trying to shove past each other for the best angles, their cameras flashing rapidly, their heat and noise saturating the room.

And Steve doesn’t care, because when everything else is chaos, he knows how to find ground zero.

He squeezes Bucky’s hand a little tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> CW: Mentions of alcohol use and vomiting during the fourth section. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! If you liked it, comments/kudos never fail to make my day! 
> 
> Also you can find me on tumblr at leashlessconfusion.tumblr.com if you have any requests/prompts etc :)


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